


be patient...

by startswithhope



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Kissing, Light Smut, just an excuse to write Killian and Emma make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13857150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: Honestly, this is just an excuse to write kissing...and making out. It's set in some vague Modern AU, but has the feel of  the end of S3 character dynamic between K&E.





	be patient...

You know how sometimes people end up being really important to you, but when you try to trace back you can’t really pinpoint the exact moment when it happened? It’s that train of thought that has Emma taking long sips of her drink, her eyes glued to the man across the room who is doing a bad job of pretending not to notice her scrutiny. She remembers there being a time when he was just a blip, an annoyance, just another bad boy made of worn leather and flirtatious smiles. But now, now he occupies entirely too many of her thoughts, not all of which are friendly. And not unfriendly, but all encompassing, full of too much of everything she’s pretty sure she can’t handle but too stubborn to not reach out and grab.

Killian Jones is a problem. But now he’s smiling at her and she feels her lips curl upwards to smile back and  _fuck_ , she’s in trouble. Looking away, she downs the rest of her drink, some too sweet thing with not enough alcohol that David made and thrust in her hands as soon as she walked in the door from work.

This little get together, thankfully, seems to be winding down. Mary Margaret is hugging Regina by the door, with David right behind her helping Belle put on her coat. Ruby tucks the half empty bottle of Jack under her arm before winking over at Emma and pulling Mulan upstairs to the only guest room in this tiny little house. The two rooms off the kitchen are hers and David’s (and Mary Margaret’s since she moved in last month) and it’s pretty perfect, just enough room for this little makeshift family she never thought she’d have.

Enough room except for Killian, who’s perched on the sofa, picking at the label of his beer bottle and looking just a tad bit lost. Tossing her cup in the trash, she walks over and plops down next to him, crossing her leg towards him as she leans against the back of the sofa to try and catch his eyes.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He doesn’t look up, but his lips form a smile and she fees heat redden her cheeks like she’s a damn schoolgirl with her crush.

“Nothing worth sharing, love. Just a bit tired is all.”

Lifting his head, he leans back into the sofa and mirrors her position so his knee is now pressed lightly against hers and their gazes lock. He’s tee’d up an invitation and she’s tempted…tempted to ask him to stay, tempted to lean in and find out how he kisses…tempted to…”

“Emma, I convinced Mary Margaret to clean up in the morning and we’re headed to bed. Oh…Killian, you’re still here?” David questions from behind them, voice a bit too loud from one too many drinks.

Looking over her shoulder, Emma rolls her eyes and makes a shooing motion with her hand.

“Go to bed, Dad,” she chides, knowing he hates it when she calls him that. He’s just a tad bit too overprotective sometimes and refuses to admit that he’s learned to like Killian, too.

“Night, mate,” Killian teases, giving the retreating David and Mary Margaret an innuendo filled smirk.

Reaching over, Emma smacks his leg, shaking her head as she mumbles, “you are a child” under her breath. Warm fingers cover hers before she can pull her hand back and she tenses, back stiffening slightly as Killian brings her hand up towards his lips. Her breath catches in her throat as he brushes the tips of her knuckles with his bottom lip, so light she can barely feel it, except for the deep pulls of desire that begin to churn deep her in belly.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice barely registering thanks to the pounding of her heart taking up all of the sound in the room.

His breath warms her skin as he replies, “just saying goodnight, Swan”, lips pressing down more firmly before bringing her hand back down to the sofa between them. He lets go, but she doesn’t move her fingers away as she’s suddenly frozen with indecision as to what she’s supposed to do next.

He waits for a few beats, frustratingly in tune with her need for a moment to process, which makes her decision both easier and harder at the same time. When she still doesn’t move, he pushes to his feet and it’s the sight of the zipper of his jacket swinging in front of her nose that for some reason shakes her into action. Grabbing the metal between her fingers, she stops his retreat, her eyes lifting to meet his as he looks down at her from above. Some sort of silent agreement seems to pass between them because the next thing she knows she’s on her feet and his hands are cupping her face, their lips speaking volumes as their kiss seems to devour all of the air from the room.

The leather of his jacket is warm in her fist as she drags him closer, her body aching to feel more, hand roaming around his back as his get lost in her hair. He groans into her mouth when she leans in so her breasts crush against his chest, both of them stumbling backwards until his knees hit the couch and he pulls them both down. She ends up straddling his lap, teeth nipping at his bottom lip until he gasps, her tongue sweeping into his open mouth in a kiss so dirty she can’t help but grind her hips down over his growing erection beneath his jeans. It’s too soon for sex, she knows that deep down, but god, he feels so good and there’s no real harm in a good old fashioned make out, is there?

His hands digging at her hips and encouraging her to do that again convinces her that agrees, so she does. Repeating the motion, she digs her hands into his hair, loving the feel of his scruff abrading her chin and bottom lip as he changes the angle of the kiss. Fuck, he’s a good kisser. So good that she feels herself melting against him, whatever defenses she’d had up before now crumbling in a pile at their feet with each swipe of his tongue and nip of his teeth.

She needs to breathe, so she pulls back enough to get out a few gasps, his breath and hers mingling in a moist heat that leaves tiny beads of moisture above her bottom lip and in the hollow of her throat. When the tip of his tongue reaches out to lick at the tiny cleft of her chin, she can’t help but chuckle, breaking the tension just enough to make them both smile and catch each other’s eyes before going in for another kiss.

This time it’s slower, deeper, his hands roaming up beneath her sweater to hold her impossibly closer as her knees tighten around his hips. Her hands blindly begin to tug at the leather of his jacket until his back bows forward, lips breaking the kiss so he can help her remove it and toss it on the floor. They’re just back to clawing at each other again when footsteps sound at the end of the hallway, causing Emma to clamp her hand over his mouth and freeze. Not wanting to deal with David finding them in this position, she pushes at his side and points down at the couch. Confusion breaks through the lust in his eyes for a brief moment before he catches on, giving her a raised eyebrow and sexy smirk before maneuvering them down onto the couch and out of sight.

His body is warm and hard beneath her, arms circling around her waist and up her back as his hips widen to welcome her legs between his. She can feel his heartbeat pounding beneath his chest from how close they are pressed, her over-sensitive breasts aware of every point of contact as she leans in to brush a kiss to the soft skin by his ear.

“Shh…”, she whispers, before taking the lobe of his ear between her teeth and lapping at it with the tip of her tongue. She hears him bite back a groan and his hands drift down, settling over her ass so he can drag her hips deeper between his legs. The footsteps draw closer and she frees his ear, trying to focus on calming her breathing as she waits to see if they are going to be discovered. When the living room light flickers off, she knows they’re in the clear, and she’s the first to move as David’s footsteps disappear back down the hall.

She tastes surprise as she takes his mouth, swallowing his gasp as she kisses him stupid. They’re both sweaty and gasping by the time he gets his wits about him, one hand snaking between them to knead her breast as he mumbles nonsense into the hot skin of her throat. Her hips are rocking down against him, literally dry humping, but he’s lifting his ass off the couch to meet her and not complaining in the slightest.

“Fuck, Emma…you’re killing me here…”, he grunts out, both hands now trying to slide beneath the tight material of her leggings to give him better purchase of her ass.

She’s on the verge of coming and is pretty sure he is too, so she moves quickly, leaning back onto her knees so she can unbuckle his belt and rip down his zipper. His eyes are wide and questioning, but she just reaches in and pulls his cock from his boxer briefs with one hand and lifts his shirt with the other. Letting go, she pulls at the waistband of her leggings, working them down over her hips and down to her knees. Pulling her sweater over her head, she looks back down at him and smiles, loving the power she has in this moment as he waits to see what she’s going to do. Sliding her fingers into the dark hair on his abdomen, she leans forward again, lowering herself back down until she can feel the length of his warm, swollen cock pressing against her belly and his breath hot and fast against her lips.

“I didn’t want you to come in your jeans,” she whispers, finishing the last word with a quick lick of his bottom lip before slipping her tongue into his open mouth.

He snaps into motion like a sail in a strong wind, kissing her back with unrestrained hunger as his hands grab her ass and force her legs to widen and straddle his hips. They begin to move in unison, a dance never practiced but their bodies know the moves anyway, the thick line of his cock rubbing with perfection against her clit until she’s gasping and clawing at the back of his neck with her short fingernails. She has to bury her lips against his cheek to stop herself from crying out as she comes, his release not far behind, their bellies sticky and clinging together as they both try to catch their breath.

“That was…” he pants, not finishing his thought as he presses kisses at the corner of her mouth as her forehead comes to rest against his.

“Fun,” she supplies, smiling more at herself for voicing that aloud than at him. He smiles back, lifting his lips up to hers for a quick kiss as he gives her ass a playful squeeze.

“We should have fun again sometime, Swan.” His words are nonchalant, but she can see the seriousness in his eyes, knowing that he hopes that this is the beginning of something, not a one time thing.

She’s pretty sure she wants the same thing, but it’s just not in her nature to be that forthcoming.

“Perhaps…” she teases, “but we should get cleaned up and off this couch before you give David a reason to pull out his gun.”

An awkward few minutes follow as they clean themselves up with a dishcloth from the kitchen and clothes are put back on. Emma watches Killian closely, trying to figure out what’s going on in his head. Of course, she could just ask him, but that’s just not how she rolls. When he grabs his jacket off the floor and begins to shrug it on she feels a pang in her chest. She doesn’t want him to leave. She takes a step towards him, then stops, not entirely sure of what to say.

He takes the lead this time, stepping towards her until they are practically nose to nose, his hands landing somewhat tentatively at her hips. When he angles his head to kiss her she leans into it, pressing her lips firmly to his as her hands hold tight to the back of his elbows. Of all the kisses they’ve shared tonight, this one feels like it’s the most important somehow. It’s as if whatever she does now will set the direction of everything that will or won’t happen next.

“Stay,” she whispers against his lips, her hand sliding up his arm in search of his fingers on her hip. Pulling away, she clasps his hand and begins to lead him down the hallway to her room. He follows without question, his smile wide and hopeful. His jacket ends up on the floor again, this time just inside her door, along with most of their clothes.

* * *

Emma wakes up the next morning to the unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, press of Killian against her back, his arm tucked tight around her waist and nose buried against her shoulder. He’s snoring, which she will definitely be teasing him about later. It takes her a moment to register that she isn’t panicking and pushing him free, even if there’s a small part of her wanting to do just that.

“Be patient…” she says to herself under her breath. Just, be patient with yourself. It’s okay to be a little scared, but let this happen. Just…be patient.


End file.
